.62371 



!HE DEVELOPMENT AND FDNCTIONS 



GEADUATE SCHOOL 



CHARLES E. MUNROE 



DI5AN' OF THE SCHOOL OF GRADUATE STUDIES OF THE COLUMBIAN UNIVERSITY 



JUDD ct DR'IWEILER 
PRINTERS TO THE SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF WASHINGTON 

WASHINGTON, D. C. 

1895 







THE DEVELOPMENT AND FUNCTIONS 



OF THE 



"Graduate: schoow 



CHARLES K. MUNROE, 
Dean of the School of Graduate Studies. 



One 3'ear ago the inauguration of the School of Graduate 
Studies of this University was effected when we gathered at 
the initial opening exercises held in this place to listen to the 
masterly address delivered by our revered President on the 
" Science of Universal History Considered as the Indispensable 
Complement of the Physical Sciences." This event, which 
attracted attention quite beyond the limits of our community, 
marked a most important epoch in the history of this institu- 
tion, in the educational development of Washington, and in the 
academic career of him who spoke, for it signalized our growth 
into a University in the most advanced sense in which this term 
is used; it offered for the first time opportunities for the cultured 
students of our country to pursue advanced studies and conduct 
researches under specialists of acknowledged standing and repu- 
tation at the National Capital, where there is gathered a larger 
fund of material (much of which is original or unique) in the 
museums and archives; where there exists a greater number of 
and more completely specialized libraries; where there is assem- 
bled a greater number of specialists, particularly in the natural 
and physical sciences, than is to be found in any other com- 
munity in this broad land, and where alone in this country the 
larger functions of government may be viewed close at hand 
and in detail; and, finally, this event marked the realization of 



the plans for that university work which Dr. Welling presented 
in his address on assuming the presidency in 1871 and for the 
prosecution of which he subsequently constantly and persist- 
ently labored under the most discouraging circumstances. 

As we listened to the President's address, the well-turned 
phrases, the polished diction, the gems of thought, the cogent 
argument, and the apt illustrations, we felt that a master was be- 
fore us, from whom we were receiving the results of the best 
thought, the 'videst research, the long and varied experience of 
one whose scholarship was broad, profound, ripe, exact, and 
tolerant, and we rejoiced that our new departure, the success of 
which meant so much to this institution, to this community, 
and to the cause of sound learning, could not have been begun 
more auspiciously. 

But a year has passed, and on the anniversary of this event 
it is a cause for profound regret and heartfelt sorrow that the 
voice which charmed us is mute; the virile brain is at rest; the 
richly-stored mind can no longer give us of its wealth and wis- 
dom. An all-wise but mysterious Providence has deemed it 
best, and the hand of death has been laid on the serene scholar, 
the philosopher, the jurist, the historian, the patriot, the genial 
companion, the courtly gentleman, the wise and sympathetic 
counsellor, our President. I would that I were skilled in the 
arts of the orator that I might sound his full meed of praise and 
the extent of our loss. Fortunately, his eulogy will be pro- 
nounced by one more competent and on a more fitting occasion, 
but I may be permitted to express here and in this connection 
my deep sense of personal and irreparable bereavement. 



The official announcement of the ' ' Graduate School ' ' states 
that ' ' the School will be opened each year with a public address 
by a member of the Faculty, ' ' and unhappily for you and for me 
this duty has this year fallen to my lot, for I am not fitted either 
by aptitude or experience for making speeches " on occasions," 
and I feel particularly embarrassed by the unusual merit of the 
address made at our first opening, whose excellence must always 
remain as a standard for those who follow in this place. 

W.D.Jotin0ton 



Owing to this fact, and to my studies for many 3'ears past 
having been along somewhat narrow lines, I had prepared to 
address you upon a feature in my specialty, but the unexpected 
death of the creator and organizer of this School rendered it, 
in my judgment, and I trust in yours also, more fitting that 
what he had accomplished and what, so far as I am aware, he 
hoped for in this School should be placed on record and recited 
here, and with your kind permission I will devote the time at 
m}' disposal to the consideration of the development, scope, and 
objects of the School of Graduate Studies. 

In his inaugural discourse, on being inducted into the presi- 
dential chair, November 6, 187 1, Dr. Welling selected as his 
theme "The Fundamental Elements of Intellectual Educa- 
tion, ' ' and while discussing, as he was so very well fitted to do, 
the relative merits of ancient and modern learning in an academic 
curriculum he says : 

' 'Accepting the theme thus suggested to me by the proprieties 
and formalities of this occasion, I have, in the first place, to in- 
quire w^hat is the object which we should set before us in de- 
termining the elements of higher academic learning. For with 
the lower stages of juvenile culture we are not directh' con- 
cerned tonight, and as to them there is not so much room for 
difference among educators. According to the terms of the 
problem proposed by higher education we are called, as I 
conceive, not to discuss the special adaptation of specific educa- 
tional studies designed to meet the requirements of any par- 
ticular vocation in industrial or professional life, but to investi- 
gate the fundamental elements of that more liberal and generous 
culture which looks to the symmetrical development of the whole 
man in all his powers and capacities; and, as this is the object 
of higher academic education, it necessarih^ follows that any 
system of such education must be defective if it omits from its 
purview any one of those essential studies by which the human 
race has been advanced to its present civil, social, intellectual, 
moral, and religious status. As in ancient Egypt men were 
able, it is said, b}' the graduated scales of the nilometer not 
only to measure the depth of the fertilizing waters that covered 
the land, but also to predict the extent of the coming harvest, 
so from the standard of education in any age we may not only 



gauge the degree in which it rises to the wants of the present 
time, but may also forecast the destiny it prefigures to the com- 
ing generation. Institutions of higher learning are founded 
among men to perpetuate and to transmit the existing stock of 
knowledge in all those departments which conduce to the intel- 
lectual progress of our race. Failing in this end, whether from 
a defect in the methods or means of education, they visibly fall 
below the standard erected for them in the requirements of the 
living age; but they do not subserve all the ends of their cre- 
ation by achieving this purpose alone. It is not enough for 
educators in the higher walks of their art to preserve and propa- 
gate the elements of didactic knowledge, but the}^ are bound so 
to impart these elements in all their fullness and vitalizing power 
as to create the conditions of a growing advancement in learning 
and civilization. >i< >K * 

* ' It was from a disregard of this latter educational require- 
ment that the progress of mental culture was arrested in Greece 
so soon as the pedagogues who succeeded the age of original 
inquir}^ contented themselves simply with the existing state of 
knowledge, instead of so learning it themselves and so teaching 
it to their pupils as to propagate with knowledge the love of it, 
and thus to stimulate and db^ect that spirit of inquiry which leads 
to never-ending conquests in the world of thought and nature; 
and so, too, during the Middle Ages knowledge came to a 
standstill in Europe, not from any torpor of the mental facul- 
ties among the school-men, for never were men more laborious 
and more acute than they, but because their mental activity re- 
volved in the verbal philosophy of Aristotle as if in a tread- 
mill, and was not suffered to go beyond the tether of that pro- 
fessorial and didactic discipline which bound it to the past, as 
if the past had contained in itself the be-all and the end-all of 
human philosophy. They failed to see in the successive stages 
of human history the stepping-stones of an ever-advancing 
progress. Under such a theory science degenerated into a 
mere logomachy and literature dwindled into a dry and formal 
rhetoric. "^ * '•' 

* * It is only in so far as the Occidental nations have made 
learning reproductive and progressive that ' fifty years of 



Europe ' are, as Tenin'son tells us, better than a ' cycle of 
Cathay.' ^ ^ "^ 

'* If it be, as I have argued, the function of a university not 
only to embody and perpetuate the existing store of human 
knowledge, but also to consult for the ' progression of the 
sciences, ' it necessarih^ follows that the sciences based on phys- 
ical research must occup}^ a prominent place in any system of 
modern intellectual education. Considered apart from the 
modifying force of Christianity, our modern age differs from 
that of Greece and Rome mainly by virtue of those positive 
sciences which have shed such a surpassing lustre on ever}' 
path of modern life and on ever}' walk of modern art; and 
these sciences, more than an}' others, contain in themselves the 
conditions and the presage of a never-ending advancement." 

Through all this the central idea is that the higher academic 
learning which he sought to engraft upon the Columbian Col- 
lege as it then existed was that which led to the advancement 
of knowledge through research, and those of us who are familiar 
with Dr. Joseph Henry's views as to what was meant b}' the 
' ' advancement of knowledge ' ' and how zealously and fortu- 
nately for the cause of science, with eventual success, he strove 
for the adoption of his interpretation of the similar phrase in 
Smithson's will are not left in doubt as to Dr. Welling' s con- 
currence in Henry's views, when, in enumerating the oppor- 
tunities at command, he says: 

" There is nothing esoteric in the learning of our day; and 
what advantages are ours both for gaining and diffusing the 
blessings of highest culture ? For here, at our very doors, we 
have the Smithsonian Institution, perpetually working, under 
the guidance of its illustrious Secretary, on the boundaries of 
knowledge in all departments, thus literally fulfilling the will 
of its founder and exemplifying the highest function of a uni- 
versity by increasing and diffusing knowledge among men; and 
here is the National Librar}- of Congress, with its well-filled 
alcoves, open alike to teachers and scholars for purposes of lit- 
erary or scientific research ; and here, for the study of technology, 
are the accumulated fruits of American inventive genius stored 
in the Patent Office; and here, for the progressive scientific 
study of astronomy, is the National Obser^'atory ; and here is 



6 

that no less learned than useful school of practical geometers 
connected with the Coast Survey; and here are the gardens 
which, under the keeping of the Agricultural Department, in- 
vite to the study of botany not in dry herbaria and in drier tomes, 
but amid flowery walks through which Shenstone would have 
loved to ramble by the side of Linnaeus or Hasselquist; and 
here, for the student of law, are the highest seats of our Ameri- 
can themis, as here, for the votaries of the healing art, are the 
priceless treasures of the Medical Museum, without any rival 
in the world among institutions of its kind; and here, by the 
munificence of him who stands at the head of the governing 
board of our College, is the Corcoran Gallery of Fine Arts, to 
keep alive the love of beauty in the soul of man. 

' * God grant that the day ma}^ not be far distant when our 
College, already a university in embryo, may be able by the 
munificence of its endowments, and therefore by the range of 
its studies, to take advantage of all these singular opportunities 
for promoting true culture in all its departments." 

It is today generally accepted in this country that a great 
university discharges two important functions, mutually de- 
pendent yet essentially distinct, and both promoting in a high 
degree the civilization, refinement, intelligence, and .spiritual 
elevation of the community in which it exists; that such an in- 
stitution should be at once an educator of youth and a source of 
knowledge, and if it fails to do its work well in either of these 
capacities the public interest suffers. But at the time this ad- 
dress was made it was still generally believed that the purpose 
of the higher institutions as well as of the lower institutions of 
learning was to instruct pupils in existing knowledge, and the 
idea prevailed that in most departments teaching was the only 
occupation for which the professors were paid. Little or no pro- 
vision was made for research, and if an ambitious student fol- 
lowed a difficult investigation to its result the institution rejoiced 
and was glad to profit by the reputation gained; but this was 
regarded as work of supererogation and purely a question of 
personal merit. It is true that original research had been for 
some years conducted by students in the scientific schools at 
Harvard and Yale and occasionally b}^ students at other insti- 
tutions; but this seems to have been brought about by the inspira- 



tion and example of certain individual professors of rare emi- 
nence and eager to promote scientific achievement, and not be- 
cause the institution required it as a prerequisite to a degree, 
though the degrees obtained in this manner soon attained to 
very high esteem. 

It is true also that the custom of admitting graduate students 
in residence had obtained at several of the existing institutions 
for many years, and that the degree of Doctor of Philosophy 
was conferred in certain instances on students completing two 
3'ears' work in two distinct departments of learning, passing 
satisfactor}' final examinations, and presenting a thesis giving 
evidence of high attainment in the branches they had pursued, 
but the acquisition rather than the advancement of knowledge 
seems to have been the duty imposed upon them. 

In fact, so far as it appears from the record, the graduate 
department or school, as now recognized, began at Cornell in 
187 1 ; at Harvard and Yale in 1872; at the University of Mich- 
igan in 1875; Johns Hopkins in 1876; Princeton in 1877; Uni- 
versity of Mrginia in 1880; University of Pennsylvania in 1881; 
Leland Stanford in 1891 ; University of Chicago in 1892; Brown 
and Columbian in 1893; and the importance and benefit of the 
methods of these schools was so immediately recognized that 
the attendance rose, speaking in round numbers, from 200 in 
i87i-'72 to 2,000 in i889-'90. 

It was at this time and on the very threshold of this move- 
ment, which has proved of such inestimable value in the pro- 
motion of learning and the advancement of knowledge, that 
Dr. Welling plead his cause, and from the inspection of his 
annual reports, his contributions to the current press, and his 
addresses before conventions since that time it appears that in 
all seasonable places and on all promising occasions he sought 
the means by which this grand scheme might be adopted and 
made operative. Thus, in his report for i888-'89, he says: 

" I adhere in 1889 onh' the more emphatically to the opinion 
expressed in 1S72 that it is only as a riv^al of great seats of 
learning that the Columbian University can ever realize the 
height of its mission." 

In these articles he repeatedly insists on larger opportunities 
of orig-inal research. At times he gives detailed schemes for 



8 

portions of the Graduate School, such as the School of Political 
Science and the School of Comparative Jurisprudence, in the 
latter of which ' * the law of the civilized world shall be taught 
as a histor}^ and a philosophy, from the first rude germs of the 
clan stage of human government up to the highest evolutions 
of that international law which today sits supreme above all 
polities and all conventions of men, and which by its moral 
sovereignty is perpetually moving forward the boundaries of 
truth and righteousness in the relations of States. In such a 
school the codes of particular nations would pass under review 
only so far as they marked successive stages of human progress, 
and only so far as each has contributed its rays to what Lord 
Coke called * the gladsome light of jurisprudence.' The civil 
law of Rome, for instance, would be taught in its origin under 
the early kings; in its progress from the kings to the twelve 
tables; from the twelve tables to Augustus; from Augustus to 
Constantine; from Constantine to Justinian, and from Justinian 
to the present time. But it would be expounded as a philosophy 
teaching by example and not as a barren erudition or as a branch 
of curious and antiquarian learning. In such a school we should 
not be called to do over again the unfruitful work of Heineccius 
and Gravina, even for the sake of tracking Gibbon to the in- 
sufficient sources from which he drew the materials for his re- 
markable chapter on the civil law. In such a school the com- 
mon law of England would be studied in its primitive sources — 
the sources which, in giving to it color and direction, have de- 
termined for us its true significance and its true interpretation. 
If so simple a story as the parable of the Prodigal Son is found 
to contain four distinct references to the sociology of primitive 
times, it need not surprise us that the codes of the world should 
swarm with survivals from the early stages of primeval law. 
Anthropological science by its comparative methods is trans- 
forming the explication of primitive law, and therefore is 
transforming the history of law as an evolution of the human 
race; and in such a school the international law of the civilized 
world would be taught not only as a body of doctrine and of ac- 
quired facts, but preeminently as a spirit working for righteous- 
ness in the intercourse of nations, and therefore working above 
and beyond the boundary already reached by the foremost 



9 

nations of Christendom — that is, the science of jurisprudence 
would become prophetic of the next things to be hoped for and 
labored for in legislation and international law, because it would 
mark the point of the curve through which the nations are mov- 
ing today." 

Not all of these noble and far-sighted plans have yet been 
made operative; but in 1892 it was made the duty of the facul- 
ties of the Columbian College, the Medical School, and the 
Corcoran Scientific School of this University to devise schemes 
of graduate study in their respective departments, and this duty 
was so successfully performed and the teaching force so in- 
creased that the Graduate School on its present plan was opened 
for instruction in the following year, with 24 professors, offering 
72 courses in the ancient and modern languages, history and 
philosophy, mathematics pure and applied, the natural and 
physical sciences, and in civil and electrical engineering, and 
with 24 students enrolled. 

The conferring of the degrees of Master in Arts and Science 
and of Doctor in Philosophy was allotted to this School of the 
University, and the standard of the engineering degrees was 
raised by directing that thenceforward the degree of Bachelor 
of Science alone should be given to students successfully com- 
pleting either of the four years' required courses in the Corcoran 
Scientific School, and that the degrees of Civil and of Electrical 
Engineer should only be conferred on those who, after receiving 
the Bachelor of Science degree in these branches of technology, 
should successfully pursue one year's study as prescribed in 
the Graduate School, sustain a satisfactory examination, and 
present a satisfactory thesis. In all cases residence at the Uni- 
versity was to be an essential to the attainment of a degree. 

When the question of the degrees to be offered was under dis- 
cussion the custom which prevails at some universities of award- 
ing different doctorate degress according to the character of 
the studies pursued by the candidates was considered, and it 
was decided that it was unwise and unnecessary to multiply the 
number of degrees, and that the conferring of the Doctor of 
Philosophy degree only upon all who satisfied our require- 
ments, regardless as to whether their preliminar}^ degrees were 
in arts or science, was justified by reputable precedence and 



10 

would lead to no misunderstanding in practice. Indeed, the 
distinctions which formerly characterized the studies leading to 
the Bachelor of Arts degree from those leading to the Bachelor 
of Science degree have been greatly modified in recent years by 
the introduction of the elective system into our colleges, so that 
science studies in these colleges carry equal weight with the 
humanities, and the introduction of the modern languages, 
political economy, history, philosophy, and the like into the 
required courses of the schools of science and technology has 
served to still further diminish the distinction, while the severe 
methods of training and criticism of authorities common to 
science methods renders the graduate of the latter schools 
equally fit if not better prepared than those educated by the 
older methods to conceive novel and original views and to cope 
with the difficulties of research work. 

In this hall at the inauguration of the Corcoran Scientific 
School, speaking on this subject of scientific studies. Major 
J. W. Powell said : 

' ' The establishment of a school of science and arts at the 
Capital of the Nation, through the munificence of Washington's 
venerable philanthropist, is a landmark in the progress of cul- 
ture and the history of education, and shows that the demands 
of modern culture are fully recognized. 

' * Let us briefly glance at some of the characteristics of this 
new education. 

** Scientific education is catholic; it embraces the whole field 
of human learning. No student can master all knowledge in 
the short years of his academic life, but a young man of ability 
and industry may reasonably hope to master the outlines of 
science, obtain a deep insight into the methods of scientific re- 
search, and at the same time secure an initiation into some of 
the departments of science in such a manner that he may fully 
appreciate the multitude of facts upon which scientific conclu- 
sions rest, and be prepared to enter the field of scientific research 
himself and make additions to the sum of human knowledge. 
Honest investigation is but the application of common sense to 
the solution of the unknown. Science does not wait on genius, 
but is the companion of industry. Under the regime of the 
elder education the larger number of those who prepared them- 



11 

selves to be schfblars by acquiring the languages in which 
scholarship was embodied never passed be3'ond the portal to 
knowledge, but speedily fell back into the ranks of the un- 
learned. Only the few went on to explore the fields open before 
them; viany were called, but feiu were chosen. Scientific educa- 
tion takes men at once into the very midst of the new phi- 
losophy." 

It is true that there existed even in the recent past a tendency 
to undervalue the primary degrees in science, and several of the 
older institutions, where the ancient scholastic notions were 
most firmly rooted, although unwillingly forced to recognize 
and confer such degrees, persistently^ aimed to enhance the value 
of the arts degree bj^ depreciating those in science. But the 
recognition of the fact that the modern subjects possessed in 
themselves the elements of culture; that they were often toler- 
ated by and matured in minds to which the older topics were 
repugnant; that they were better adapted to the modern condi- 
tions of our progressive civilization, and that a noticeably large 
percentage of the winners of these degrees took high rank 
among scholars and leaders of thought and action have led to a 
continually increased respect for the science courses, so that to- 
day the number of students selecting the science in preference 
to arts courses, even without considering the schools of tech- 
nology purely, is exceedinglj^ large. Thus, for instance, we 
find that in 1 892-' 93 the candidates for undergraduate science 
degrees were to those for arts degrees in Cornell as 8:1; Uni- 
versity of Michigan, 3.4:1; University of Pennsylvania, 3:1; 
Columbia College, 1.3:1; Yale, 1:2; Princeton, 1:2.2, and 
Harvard, 1:16. 

This growth is a matter to be reckoned with b}^ those who are 
charged with the direction of our institutions of learning, and 
it has been made a special subject of treatment by President 
Eliot in his last annual report, and, as he cannot be charged with 
having especially fostered such courses, his views have a pecu- 
liar interest when he says that while access to the schools of 
science is often easier than to the academic departments, ' ' as 
a rule, there is more of the spirit of hard work in the scientific 
schools or courses than in the colleges or the college depart- 
ments of universities. The motive of earning a livelihood 



12 

presses more constantly, and the students feel more distinctly 
that they are beginning their life-work, and that their future 
success may be determined by their present acquirements and 
the habits of work which they form. On the other hand, waste 
of time in sports, social enjoyments, and desultory reading is, 
by custom, tolerated more in colleges than in technical schools. 

* ' The degrees in science are rapidly winning their way to 
public consideration and the respect of educated men. Thus 
it is the practice in the higher departments of Harvard Univer- 
sity to put primary degrees in science, in many respects, on the 
same footing with the degree of Bachelor of Arts. For exam- 
ple, the degrees of Bachelor of Literature, Bachelor of Philos- 
ophy, and Bachelor of Science admits to the Law School and 
to the Medical School without examination, just as the degree 
of Bachelor of Arts. The Graduate School admits freely as 
candidates for appropriate degrees both graduates of colleges 
and graduates of scientific schools in good standing, and it is to 
be observed that the holders of these newer degrees wi?i valuable 
appointments in larger proportion than their number wonld en- 
title them to.'' 

It is greatly to be feared that in the near future this move- 
ment will have gone so far in its course that the great value of 
the ancient classics and philosophy in our curricula will not be 
properly recognized. Whether or not the proper equilibrium 
will be maintained will be largely dependent on the work done 
in the Graduate Schools. 

While students properly graduated from reputable schools of 
technology and application are freely admitted with students of 
arts to our Graduate School, and eventually, on satisfying our 
requirements, are awarded the same final degree, yet all, except 
students in engineering, are expected to select studies and in- 
vestigate problems without regard to their applications, for a 
university is only such when it has for its object the pursuit of 
knowledge in the most exalted sense in which that term is used, 
namely, the ardent, methodical, independent search after truth 
in any and all its forms, but wholly irrespective of utilitarian 
application, and where there exists complete freedom of teach- 
ing and complete freedom of learning. Hence candidates are 
permitted to choose from the courses offered any of the subjects 



13 

which their attainments, aptitude, and experience qualifies them 
to pursue, and they are not subjected to any fixed schedule, pre- 
scribed attendance, set recitations, or definite limit of work. 
The work is to be as largely as possible individual so as to de- 
velop and preserve the best qualities of each person and to culti- 
vate originality. The professor is to be the student's guide, 
philosopher, and friend, his example and his inspiration. They 
will meet at such times and places, at regular or irregular in- 
tervals, as they may mutually agree upon, and conduct the work 
in such manner and over such ground as the professor may deem 
most judicious. The professor will advise and .supervise the 
student; direct his reading and bibliographic research so that it 
may be broad, suggestive, exhaustive, and relevant to the par- 
ticular subject under consideration; assist him in his difficulties, 
but so that he may help himself and become self-reliant and re- 
sourceful; stimulate him if he lags and repress him if he attempts 
too much; attack his methods of work and criticise his discus- 
sions of his data and his deductions therefrom. The professor 
is the sole and final judge as to whether or not the candidate 
has sustained a satisfactory examination, and for any, except 
candidates for the doctor's degree, as to whether or not he has 
presented a satisfactory thesis showing high attainment in his 
chosen subject (though the professor may adopt such plan and 
call into consultation such experts to determine these facts as he 
deems best), while in the case of the doctorate thesis he will 
decide whether or not it is suitable for presentation to the board 
of experts and the candidate is sufiiciently well prepared to suc- 
cessfully defend it. 

In fixing the requirement for degrees it was further decided 
that candidates for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy should 
offer themselves in three topics for advanced study — one major 
and two collateral minor subjects. Before being admitted as 
candidates the}^ shall pass satisfactory examinations in French 
and German. 

To be eligible for the degree, candidates who hold master's de- 
grees must pass two years in study at this University, they 
must sustain satisfactory examinations upon the three subjects 
which they may have elected, and they must present theses 
embodying the results of original research in their major sub- 



14 

ject, which theses they must be prepared to defend before a 
board of experts, and which must be accompanied by an ex- 
haustive bibliography. 

The requirement in French and German was recognized by 
general consent as an essential preliminary, since the literature 
in these tongues is so rich and of so important a nature; but, 
as the test to be applied was to determine the candidate's ability 
to use these tools of research rather than his culture, it was 
considered sufficient that he should be able to prove that he 
could easily and accurately read and render at sight works 
written in these languages on the subjects which he had elected 
for study, while it was understood that where the nature of the 
subject elected warranted it and the candidate desired to demon- 
strate that he possessed an equal familiarity with another tongue 
the Board of Directors of University studies might determine if 
this could be accepted as an equivalent. 

As in the case of the master's degree, the candidate for the 
doctor's degree must present a thesis; but, while the master's 
thesis would be satisfactory if it showed a high attainment in 
the subject chosen for study, the doctor's thesis, to be satisfac- 
tory, must embody the results of original research and prove an 
actual contribution to knowledge — that is, while the master's 
thesis must give evidence of high attainment the doctor's thesis 
must not only give proof of this, but also of achievement. 

Further, it must be accompanied by an exhaustive bibliog- 
raphy, which is an unusual requirement, but one which is in 
complete accord with modern practice in research work, while 
the compiling of such a bibliography is an essential preliminary 
in the carrying out of any original investigation in either science 
or art. 

This requirement also but emphasizes the methods which are 
now being made a feature of undergraduate instruction in our 
more progressive institutions, where specially selected libraries 
are being introduced into the class-rooms and placed freely at 
the disposal of the student, while they are forced to consult 
these books and periodical literature by the many references 
and citations brought forth by the instructors. The growth of 
these libraries and the universal use made of them is a most 
encouraging feature in modern educational progress, for how- 



15 

ever troublesome and expensive it may be to teach thousands of 
students the abundant use of books it is the most important 
lesson that can be given them during their student life, since 
there is nothing more essential to scholarship than the habit of 
thorough comparative study of many books relating to whatever 
subject a student may have in hand; for the free use of books 
emancipates the student from the dominion of a text-book or 
single treatise; enables him to practice resort to original author- 
ities; reveals to him the great extent to which matter once 
printed is copied from book to book, generation after genera- 
tion; shows him how limited the data is from which some im- 
portant and generally accepted conclusions have been deduced, 
and vSUpplies him with the original data through which to verify 
or modify these conclusions by the application of more modern 
methods of analysis or treatment. 

Besides this, it is especially fitting that we should demand 
this requirement, as bibliograph}^ has been cultivated to a high 
degree by the community amid which we exist, and it is most 
highly appreciated by the members thereof. It has engaged 
the attention of quite a number of the members of our faculties, 
and one among them has achieved great distinction for his un- 
usually extensive and exhaustive labors in this field; it is taught 
by special lectures in certain schools of the University; and it 
should be, as it probably will come to be, recognized as a char- 
acteristic feature of our University work. 

Besides these requirements there comes the final and most 
severe one of the defense of the thesis; a test in which the can- 
didate, his senior professor, and the experts themselves are all 
under judgment. This requirement of the defense of the thesis 
was the subject of more consideration and discussion than an}^ 
of the others, and was adopted only after mature deliberation. 
Although it is not a common practice among American universi- 
ties, it was not objected to on the score of novelty, since it had 
been practiced for centuries in European universities, but be- 
cause it was feared that it might be impracticable and become 
perfunctory. 

• The German usage is described by Hart in his interesting 
work on the German universities when treating of the Privat- 
docenten. The w^ork of the Privat-docent as a student is special. 



16 

For three or more 3^ears he has studied certain subjects ex- 
clusively, and has taken his doctoral degree b3^ passing a vigor- 
ous examination covering the entire field of his studies and b}^ 
presenting one or more dissertations that show his ability to 
treat certain topics in an independent, manly spirit of research; 
but with all this he is not yet a docent. The university has not 
yet conferred upon him the right to teach others. To obtain 
this he must qualify himself still further; he must habilitate 
himself. He waits, therefore, a year or two longer, pursuing 
his private studies with energy. He then prepares and pub- 
lishes an elaborate dissertation. In connection with this he an- 
nounces ten or twelve theses or detached propositions which he 
is prepared to defend against all comers, as Luther was when he 
affixed his famous thCvSes to the door of the cKurch at Witten- 
berg. The public disputation is held in one of the university 
rooms. The professors of the candidate's faculty attend. In 
fact, any one may attend who sees fit, and nia}^ take part in the 
debate. ' ' Ordinarily the disputation is a mere ceremony. The 
candidate stands on the platform, like the knights in the Middle 
Ages, ready to maintain the merits of his lady-love. His an- 
tagonists are his friends, who hav^e been instructed beforehand 
what to say. After four or five parleys, each lasting a few 
minutes, the antagonist admits the champion's superiority, and 
the dean pronounces him a true and worthy knight of science. 
Occasionally, however, some one of the theses is attacked in 
earnest, and then the candidate must also defend himself in 
earnest." A man like the graduate of Gottingen, a rather 
learned naturalist, who had traveled extensively and made a 
practice of attending disputations and bothering the candidates, 
was looked upon as a public nuisance. " It is needless to say 
that this disputation is an empty form to which no weight is 
attached, the real test of the candidate's merit being his disser- 
tation, which has been read in print beforehand by each mem- 
ber of the faculty and which must be a substantial contribution 
to knowledge." 

In spite of our cognizance of these facts and the knowledge 
that our matter-of-fact people would look with contempt on such 
a perfunctory performance as that described above, it was felt 
that the public defense of the theses, if properly conducted, 
possessed a positive value, in that it would stimulate the candi- 



17 

date to more thoroughly prepare his thesis and render him more 
cautious regarding his statements than might otherwise be the 
case, and thus result in his thesis being better fitted for publi- 
cation than if it were only to be submitted for private inspec- 
tion, and that it would further give to the examination that 
publicity which we court and which the communit}' have a right 
to require when this high degree is conferred. By requiring 
that the entire thesis shall be maintained before a board com- 
posed of recognized experts in the particular subject treated of 
in the thesis, after these experts have had ample opportunity to 
privately examine the thesis in order to search out its weak 
points, and b}^ establishing the practice that the experts shall 
state in writing whether or not the candidate has successfull}" 
defended his thesis, it is believed that we have secured the 
benefits sought while we have made the performance a real and 
vital one. 

Because we court publicit3Mn the work of this School, it was 
also decided that at the commencement exercises we should 
formall}^ state, in the case of each individual candidate, all the 
reasons w^hicli led to the degree awarded him being conferred 
and narrate the candidate's entire academic histor5\ 

With all our plans matured and provisions made the uncer- 
tainty still remained as to whether students were at hand to avail 
themselves of the opportunities offered, and the beginning of our 
first scholastic year was enveloped in doubt, which was speedily 
dissipated b}^ the number, character, and attainments of the 
candidates who presented themselves for enrollment, a number 
which exceeded our most sanguine expectations. The comple- 
tion of the scholastic 3'ear in which our methods and require- 
ments were to be for the first time put to the test of actual 
practice was awaited with anxiet}', which was relieved b}^ the 
behavior of the candidates, who prosecuted their studies so 
diligently and met all the requirements imposed so completely 
that out of the 24 enrolled 3 were awarded the degree of Master 
of Science, 8 that of Master of Arts, and 4 that of Doctor of Phi- 
losophy; and, still more, by the action of the eminent experts 
who so heartily cooperated with us and who conducted the dis- 
putation in so dignified and efficient a manner, that our dis- 
tinguished President was fortunately able to say in the last 
annual report he was to make : 



18 

"The operations of the Graduate School have justified all 
the hopes under which it was originated and organized. The 
students have prosecuted their advanced studies under the di- 
rection of learned professors, and all candidates for degrees 
have been subjected to the strictest scrutiny. The condition of 
residence in Washington has been made obligatory in all cases, 
that the contact between the mind of the teacher and of the 
scholar ma)^ be so close aijd constant as to assure thoroughness 
of direction and accuracy of study at all points. In advanced 
study and in original research it is all-important that the direct- 
ive, the regulative, and the corrective power of the superior 
instructor should be perpetualh' at the student's command, in 
order to assure the best possible results, and there is no inspira- 
tion like that which comes from the living mind'of great teach- 
ers in quickening touch with receptive intellects. No degree 
has been conferred except on evidence authenticated by careful 
examinations. 

" The doctorate disputation was held in the public lecture 
hall of the University on the 5th instant, when theses on the 
'Elements of Unity in the Homeric Poems,' on an 'Investi- 
gation of the Motion of the Pericentre of Deimos,' one of the 
satellites of Mars; on the 'Flora of the Laramie Group and 
Allied Formation,' and on an ' Investigation of the Properties 
of Ferric Acid' were discussed and defended before a jur}^ of 
experts competent in each case to pronounce judgment upon 
the value of the disquisition and of the original inquiry made 
by the wTiters. The faculty of the Graduate School hope in 
this way to win from ' mouths of wisest censure ' such a con- 
firmation of the highest degrees given under the auspices of the 
University as shall assure the circumspection with which they 
are granted." 

Uet us who are here look to it that this Graduate School of 
the Columbian University, which has begun so well, will be so 
wisely directed and generously fostered, will so elevate its 
standard and extend its privileges, that it shall come to be recog- 
nized everywhere as a stronghold of learning, a fertile source 
of knowledge, the pride of the nation whose capital it adorns, 
and a perpetual memorial to that wise and learned man who 
projected and inaugurated it. 



LIBRARY 01- LUNbKt:>:> 



liilliiilllliiiliiliiiiliiiiiliiiy 

019 751 205 2 • 



The Columbian University, 

WASHINGTON, D. C. 



FACULTY OF THE SCHOOL OF GRfiDUSTE STUDII 



The Rev. vSAMUEL H. GREENE, D. D., President. 

CHARLES E. MUNROE, S. B., Ph. D., Deax, . Professor of Chemistry. 

The Rev. ADONIRAM J. HUNTINGTON, A. M ,D. D., Professor of Greek. 

The Rev. SAMUEL M. SHUTE, A. M., D. D., . . Professor of English. 

ANDREW P. MONTAGUE, A. M., Ph. D., . Professor of Latin. 

J. HOWARD GORE, B. S., Ph. D., .... Professor of Mathematics. 

LEE D. LODGE, A. M., Ph. D., vSecretary, . . Professor of French. 

D. KERFOOT SHUTE, A. B., M. D Profes.sor of Anatomy. 

FRANCIS R. FAVA, JR., C. E., Professor of Civil Engineering. 

THEODORE N. GILL, M. D., Ph. D., .... Profes.sor of Zoology. 

OTIS T. MASON, A. M., Ph. D., .... Lecturer on Anthropology. 

CLEVELAND ABBE, A. M., Ph. D., LL- D., . . Professor of Meteorology. 

HERMANN SCHONFELD, Ph. D., .... Professor of German. 

The Rev. J. MACBRIDE STERRETT, B. D., D. D., . Professor of Philosophy. 

EDGAR FRISBY, A. M., U. S. N., .... Professor of A.stronomy. 

WILLIAM C. WINLOCK, A. B Professor of Astronomy. 

WILLIAM T. HARRIS, A. M., LL. D.. . . . Professor of Philosophy. 

EMIL A. DE SCHWEINITZ, A. M., Ph. D., . . Professor of Bio-Chemistry. 

FRANK W. CLARKE, S. B., Professor of Mineral Chemistry, 

HARVEY W. WILEY, A. M., M. D., Ph. D., . . Profes.sor of Agricultural Chemistry. 

The Rev. FRANK H. BIGELOW, A. M., . Professor of Solar Physics. 

ALEXANDER S. CHRISTIE, LL- M.. ... Professor of Mathematical Phj-sics. 

GEORGE P. MERRILL, Ph. D., .... Professor of Geology. 

HOWARD L. HODGKINS, Ph. D., .... Professor of Mathematics. 

EXUM PERCY LEWIS, B. S., Professor of Electrical Engineering. 

EDWARD FARQUHAR, Ph. D , Assistant Professor of English. 

H. CARRINGTON BOLTON, Ph. D., . . . Professor of Bibliograpln' and Bibliolc 

CHARLES E. BARRY, Professor of Architecture. 

LOUIS AMATEIS, Professor of Fine Arts as Applied to Architect! 

CHARLES F. MARVIN, A. B., As.sLstant Profe.s.sor of Meteorology. 

BEVERLEY T. SENER, LL. M., .... Registrar. 



HBRARY OF CONGRESS 



019 751 205 2 



Hollinger Corp. 



